Blackbird. Natália Gomes

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СКАЧАТЬ Mom. Everybody does it.”

      “I don’t care about everybody. You do it again, and you don’t get to use the swing.”

      “Okay,” he mumbled. But his torment was short-lived. A second later, he gave her a beguiling smile. “Can we go to McDonald’s for dinner?”

      “No, we cannot. I have a chicken defrosted.”

      He gave her a look she found adorable but one she really shouldn’t encourage. His little face scrunched all up, and one lip curled on the side. She could eat him with a spoon.

      “Afternoon, Eli,” Felicia said.

      “Afternoon, Ms. Felicia.”

      Gillian took Eli’s hand and headed for the parking lot. Felicia followed.

      “I hear he’s staying the night at the motel.”

      “That’s nice,” Gillian said. “Esther can use the income.”

      “But he’ll have to eat, you know.”

      “I would imagine.”

      “So what I’m saying is why don’t you come eat at the diner, too?”

      Gillian sighed. “Felicia, you’re a wonderful neighbor and you make the best bundt cake in the history of the world, but if you don’t stop trying to marry me off to strangers, I’m going to have to hurt you.”

      Felicia laughed. “I can’t help it, Gillian. It goes against my nature to see a woman as pretty as you go it alone.”

      “I’m not alone. I have Eli.”

      “And he’s a mighty fine boy. But a woman has needs…”

      They reached her Toyota, and Eli sprinted to the passenger door. “I don’t want to talk about my needs,” Gillian said. “Especially when I’m with my mighty fine boy.”

      Felicia frowned. She actually was an attractive woman. At fifty-seven, she could pass for forty, and when she dressed up, which rarely happened, she could look like a belle of thirty-five. “Well, you do what you think best,” she said. “But I’m going to eat at the Greet. And so is Elizabeth.”

      Gillian opened her door. “Say hello for me.”

      “Sure you won’t come?”

      Gillian got into the car and shut the door. Leaning out the open window, she gave Felicia a smile and a wave. “See you later.”

      “If Aunt Elizabeth is eating out, why can’t we?” Eli asked.

      “Because I have a chicken defrosted.”

      Eli kicked the dashboard with his sneaker. “I don’t even like chicken.”

      “Well then, you can just eat the green beans.”

      He scrunched his face up again. Gillian smiled.

      CONNER DIALED his home number to get his messages. After he punched in his code, he looked around his room. It wasn’t the Four Seasons, but it wasn’t bad. The king-size bed seemed firm, the linens clean. And the TV carried several cable channels.

      No messages. He hung up the phone, then got the room key from the nightstand. He was so hungry even the prospect of eating at the Eat ’N Greet was getting him all excited. Actually, he shouldn’t be so prejudiced. Sometimes small-town diners had the best food. Why not this place?

      He got a paperback out of his overnight bag, then left the ground-floor room, locking it behind him. The air had cooled slightly since he’d checked in. It would be a lovely night. March could be ungodly hot in Texas, so this was a treat. In fact, he was glad he needed to walk to the diner. He wanted to see if the people in the doorways were still there.

      He got to Main Street and turned left. The trees cast long shadows on the uneven sidewalk, and he could see his reflection clearly in the windows, which wasn’t what he’d been after. He’d wanted to check out the little stores, see how the town displayed itself. But it was too nice out to be displeased for long. This was his vacation after all.

      His much needed vacation. The hospital had been particularly busy in the past few months, and while he had interns and residents to take up some of the slack, he’d felt as though he’d been living in the hospital instead of his apartment. He’d eaten too much cafeteria food, slept on too many call-room cots and had too many nights of interrupted sleep. Tonight, he’d go to bed early and sleep forever. Well, at least until noon.

      He passed the bakery door and surprised the young woman locking up. She jumped as if he’d been a ghost, then gave him a sort of smile. He nodded and smiled in return but picked up his pace. What an odd town. In fact, he could feel the woman watching him. That uncomfortable, vulnerable sense that a bull’s-eye was painted on his back stayed with him as he passed a doctor’s office. Finally, he couldn’t help himself; he had to look back.

      Sure enough, the bakery woman was staring at him while she talked into a cellular phone. At least she had the decency to turn when he caught her.

      It didn’t matter, though. There was the Eat ’N Greet. Maybe he’d have some chicken-fried steak. It was an indulgence he rarely gave in to, but tonight, he felt like walking on the wild side.

      There was his Land Rover. He’d drive it to the motel after dinner and park it in the small lot out back, which was better than leaving it on the main drag.

      He reached the entrance of the diner and saw two signs, one that told him he’d better be wearing a shirt and shoes if he wanted service, and the other advertising free kittens, call Pop Burns for details. When was the last time he’d seen free kittens advertised on a restaurant door?

      He pushed on through but stopped immediately. The place was packed. Every table, except one, was occupied by at least two people. All the booths were filled, and even the long counter had no vacancies. His gaze went back to the empty table. It was right in the middle of the diner. Where everyone could get a nice eyeful if they wanted. And given the fact that every person in the place was staring at him, he’d wager they did.

      A woman, he wasn’t sure who, cleared her throat. As if on cue, everyone turned away at the same time. Two seconds later, they started talking. Five seconds later, both waitresses picked up plates of food from the kitchen and headed toward the booths.

      Weird. Very weird. He didn’t think anyone was going to seat him, so he made his way to the empty table. As soon as he sat down, one of the waitresses—Juanita, according to the name embroidered on the pink uniform—gave him a menu and the first really welcoming smile he’d seen in Miller’s Landing. He smiled back, deciding right then to leave an obscenely large tip.

      “How y’all doing?” Juanita asked, her Texas twang pronounced.

      “Fine, thanks.”

      “We’ve got some meat loaf on special tonight. And some fried chicken.”

      “How about chicken-fried steak?”

      “You got it.”

      “And a beer?”

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